


Not Her

by Arisprite



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort?, Episode: s03e23 Insatiable, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, post ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:17:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1348822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arisprite/pseuds/Arisprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia set her teeth against another scream. She didn’t want to scream again. That would make it real. Banshees cry out when a death is near, and maybe, if she kept her lips pressed closed…<br/>Then, under her shaking body, Stiles stirred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Her

Lydia left her head against Stiles’ chest for a long moment, her scream echoing in the air. Allison’s name rung in her ears and her heart, pressing down with a weight on her lungs that would never be lightened. Not now. 

_No, not Allison. Not her sweet best friend, please no nonononno…._

Lydia choked on a sob, staring forward into the tunnel-towards where Scott had disappeared, towards Allison-

_Allison!_

Letting her eyes clench closed, Lydia set her teeth against another scream. She didn’t want to scream again. That would make it real. Banshees cry out when a death is near, and maybe, if she kept her lips pressed closed…

Then, under her shaking body, Stiles stirred. He groaned, and shifted, making a questioning little noise when he found her head buried in his shirt, her arms pinned numbly between them, nearly kneeling on his lap. She didn’t move. Didn’t want to have to say it, didn’t want him to see her face (which was surely pouring tears) and have to explain. 

“Lydia?” He murmured, pained sounding, slurring and broken, like his gasps had been right before he collapsed. “Wha’s wrong? What happened?”

Lydia sobbed once, and then pulled back, lips trembling. She met his eyes, begging him not to make her say it. 

Stiles stared at her, coming more awake (if not less death-like) and pinning her with a brown gaze that was commanding and reassuring at the same time, so unlike the nogitsune and his cold boredness. He tracked a single tear curving along her cheek and into the corner of her mouth, before sucking in a breath, and looking again into her eyes. Fear mounted in his features. 

“Who?” He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. She was still so close, he nearly brushed her shirt. He whimpered, moving yet closer, reaching his other hand to her shoulder. “Lydia, _who?”_

He knew someone was dead, he knew. Telling him would break his heart (it broke hers) but he needed to know.   
Lydia swallowed, wiped at her face in a semblance of impatience, but what was really near panic and heartbreak. Then she met his eyes again. 

“Allison-” She had to cut herself off, as a new wave of sobs broke free. She gasped hard, trying to regain control. “I-I don’t know what happened, I just… I _felt_ it. Stiles-”

Stiles face, broken as it was before, shattered. He closed his eyes, and fell backwards as if all his bones had turned to sponge, no longer supporting his body. His breathing sped up, and tears squeezed from the corners of his lashes. 

“No, no, no…” He moaned, putting shaking hands up towards his face, and then letting them waver, like he couldn’t even allow himself the comfort of putting his head in his hands. Lydia thought she should reach out, help him somehow, but she couldn’t. Allison was dead. And Lydia was supposed to go one without her?

“Not her, no, no one else was supposed to die. No...” Stiles was talking unsteadily, under his breath. Lydia curled forward, hovering her head over Stiles’ jerking body, not making contact, clutching her hands to her chest. “It’s my fault- I’m so sorry!” Stiles gasped, and Lydia wanted to fall forward into his arms, wanted to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, it couldn’t be, but she couldn’t make herself move. She only hunched further down into herself, hating this, every moment. Hating herself for not making the warning clear enough, hating Allison for coming and fighting so hard (like she always did) when she was so young, so vulnerable, so _human_. Hating Mr. Argent for letting her come, and Scott for leading them there, and Stiles even, for letting the nogitsune steal his face, and make this all so very personal. It was dark, and bitter and Lydia wanted to throw up, but Stiles was breaking beneath her, and she had to pull herself out of this. 

Taking a deep breath through her nose, Lydia lifted her head, and looked at Stiles. Stiles was breathing hard, breaking down, tear streaked and pale as death. She felt a flood of tears streak down the paths that had already been forged, but her jaw was set. 

“Stiles.” She rasped. “Stiles, stop. Stop it, okay.” She put her hands on either side of his face again, like she had that day in the locker room. He had looked wild eyed and scared that day, today he was devastated and haunted, but he still looked up at her like she could save him. _Could she save him from this?_

“Lydia- It was me, I did thi-”

“Shh, please Stiles.” Lydia swallowed a sob. She couldn’t take telling Stiles it wasn’t his fault. She didn’t have the strength. She didn’t know if it was true. “Please,” She begged, and didn’t know what she was asking for. 

He looked up at her, his eyes wet, tears and sweat clammy against her hands, and then nodded into her palms. 

“How long…?” He asked, drawing back, his eyes flickering to the tunnel entrance. Lydia leaned back, realizing how close they were. She let her hands fall to her lap, useless. She paused at his question. How long had it been? It felt like hours, days, centuries. Allison had been dead forever, but it was only yesterday that she’d seen her. 

Lydia shrugged. “Minutes. I-I think, I don’t know.” She sniffed. “We need to find Scott. Can you walk?”

Stiles nodded, and began getting up. He was weak, shaky from his collapse, from something else, she didn’t know. He stumbled, and Lydia shoved her arm around his waist, shoulder under his arm. He was cold, so cold, as cold as she was-numb in this basement all day in November. Clinically, she noted she was probably dealing with some hypothermia, since she’d stopped shivering some time ago. 

No matter. The sun was coming up outside. The world was still, and the nogitsune with Stiles’ face was nowhere to be seen. But her friends, her rescuers were folded roughly in a circle, around her. Allison, laying peaceful in Mr. Argent’s arms, with Scott and Isaac both limp on either side, kneeling in devastation. Kira and her mother stood a little further off, apart from the mourning. 

Seeing Allison there, blood on her shirt and lips, Lydia’s knees buckled. She must have made some small broken noise, because in seconds Scott was there, pulling both her and Stiles into a supporting hug. Stiles went bonelessly, leaning against Scott as if he were the last strength in the world, but Lydia squirmed away, walking feebly over to her friend. 

“Allison-” She choked, and then her eyes were swimming again, and she couldn’t see her. Couldn’t see her beautiful Allison. “Oh, god-”

Mr. Argent lifted his head, as Lydia fell to her knees next to them. His face was shattered, the man had lost his only remaining family, and entirely separate from her own pain, Lydia’s heart broke for him. 

“Oh, Mr. Argent…” Lydia whispered. Mr. Argent reached for her, and let her fall against his side, burying her face into his shoulder. She cried again, harder now, with Allison lying beneath her. Her hands stroked the long dark hair, her still face. “Allison-”

“I know.” Mr. Argent whispered, his voice breaking into a sob. “My baby girl,”

Lydia sobbed again, and leaned down to kiss Allison on her forehead. Dimly, she was awake of Scott half carrying Stiles over as well, and kneeling beside her. Scott’s arm curled around her other side, and he and Mr. Argent were _warm._ It almost made her forget the coldness of Allison’s body in the middle of them. 

“She died fighting.” Scott scraped out. “She died a hero.”

“She died upholding the code.” Mr. Argent murmured. Isaac shifted, and Lydia noticed he was covered in blood and slashes, though they seemed to be healed mostly now. 

“She saved me. And she found out how to kill them. Direct center of the chest. The oni will die.” Isaac said, quiet and huddled like he used to be. “She saved us all.” 

Mr. Argent nodded, and straightened up. “We have to use what she’s given us. At nightfall, we’ll face the oni again. The nogitsune will try to win, but we have an advantage now.” His voice still broke, but came out fierce. This was a man who’d keep fighting until it was over. The devastating blow would only fuel his rage. 

Lydia wished she could be like that. All she felt beside her grief was tired. So very tired. 

As if Mr. Argent could tell, he looked at her and then Scott. With red-rimmed eyes, he nodded, and stood. 

“We all need to sleep. Nothing will happen until night.”

Collecting themselves, the group stood. Mr. Argent carried Allison away to his car, and Lydia almost broke down again then and there, but Stiles, still now, put a hand on her arm. She grabbed his hand instead and didn’t let go.


End file.
